Charts vs. Chart Plotters -- Yet Again

If you read my entry "Seasickness," you know that my last sail had its ups and downs. That's putting it midly. I became extremely sick. The Coast Guard rescued me from the boat I was on, and raced to me to shore to a waiting ambulance. I spent about 48 hours in the hospital, and my doctor and nurse practitioner are still following me closely for lingering effects.

The whole experience -- when I wasn't hanging my head over the side of the boat, that is -- was an interesting display regarding the debate between chart plotters and older methods of navigation.

The skipper of the boat I was on, Samantha Ring, is an unapologetic geek when it comes to navigation skills. We recently found out that our late friend Al Davis often used her as an example of one of the best students of celestial navigation he had ever had. Now, Samantha is young in years compared to me. She hasn't yet had the opportunity to do more than weekend hops on her boat. She teaches during the year, and anyone who has taught knows that this does not necessarily mean that your weekends are free. During the summer where she lives, while it is technically possible to sail, the winds are so light that it can be hard to travel any distance. In addition, the risk of afternoon storms combined with the dangers of coastal sailing in a storm off west Florida (lots of shallow water) mean that you go out early and come in early. That also limits the distance you can cover.

So the only reason Samantha had to learn celestial navigation was curiosity. This is a trait she holds in abundance, however. She has also learned extensively about coastal navigation.

In spite of this, I have been urging her to embrace the idea of adding a chart plotter to her set of tools and skills. She has actually been one of the people who believes that the cognitive skills of navigation are superior to electronic support, and after my most recent day on the water it would be hard to disagree with her.

Nevertheless, I talked her into having a chart plotter cable installed on her boat so she could do a test trial with my chart plotter and see if she might find it a useful addition. She was skeptical, but also is making a big leap shortly in the distance she's sailing, so she went along with it.

Unfortunately the installer connected it to dead wires and did not have time to correct this mistake before we left. But my goal was to show her that the two skill sets -- coastal navigation and using a chart plotter -- could work together, so I did the best I could with Navionics on my cell phone (it may be great on an IPAD or computer, but I have used it twice now on my phone and don't recommend it when used that way. IMO it's too clumsy for the small gain in information, but YMMV.)

Rather than try to snake her way through the many islands south of St. Petersburg without the rapid information a chart plotter provides, Samantha chose to go out to sea a bit and then angle in to our goal, Longboat Channel into Longboat Key. It was an ambitious plan for three reasons:

1) We had a much later start than anticipated

2) We had unexpected mechanical problems with the mainsail

3) The fuel gauge (which proved to be markedly inaccurate, as I understand it a fairly common occurrence on sailboats) led us to believe that we were much lower on fuel than we actually were. (I hope I remember to suggest to her to see if she could simply use a dipstick approach to her fuel tank. I can't on my boat, but she might be able to. I was too sick to go into the cabin, so I'm not really quite sure if her new fuel tank configuration would allow that.)

In the meantime, I was getting more and more sick. As skipper, it was Samantha's job to figure out the best way to get me to help, and trusting her to do this, I did not override her judgments. That turned out be very smart on my part.

I should state now that I also did not at any time look over her shoulder to check her calculations. Any movement made me more sick, and she was using my chart book, which suits a small cockpit better than larger charts. I was interested in protecting my chart book from my current medical state.

Samantha went below, knew immediately where her navigation aids were, and returned with dividers, hand bearing compass, parallel rulers, protractor, and two rotating wheels which she described as a "sailing slide rule." That last one is not something I'm familiar with but very curious about now. Some time when it is less likely that I would soil it rather badly, I want to get a look at it and what it can do. It wasn't covered in the coastal navigation class I took, which unfortunately emphasized ... chart plotters.
 
Using these tools while the 15 year old Sea Scout who was with us quite competently handled the boat by herself (in spite of never having single-handed before -- more about her later), Samantha was able to locate our position with remarkable precision. We know this because my phone had just enough battery left to confirm our location.

I have two observations about all of this, done when it really mattered (thanks, Samantha! You saved me from being a lot more sick than I already was.)

First, Samantha did a truly excellent job of navigating when it really counted.

Second, neither Boat US nor the Coast Guard were at first confident that she actually knew where we were. Why? Because we didn't have a chart plotter. THEY seemed to be so reliant on electronic aids that they did not believe Samantha when she reported our position using things like dividers and paper charts. They may well have had good reason for this. It is my suspicion that an awful lot of people don't know how to do it. I don't believe I could have done it as well as Samantha did (assuming I hadn't been sick).

I believe that part of what convinced the Coast Guard that they should come and get us was that over a half hour they got three reports from Samantha of our location, and that the three points reported made sense. By the way, Samantha was loathe to draw lines on charts that weren't hers, adding a new layer of complications that did not prevent her from doing the job well.

The Coast Guard found us efficiently, and something that has to be kept in mind in all of this is the nature of the typical coastal Coast Guard vessel. They are not really equipped for medical rescue. There was no stretcher or back board and it would have been a very bad idea anyway. There was no room in their little cabin for such apparatus. In the back of the boat, lying down simply was not an option. I needed all the physical strength I could manage to muster to be able to sit and hang on to that gun turret or whatever it was (it might have just been an incredibly stout stanchion for lines with a big hole drilled in the top for some other reason than a gun mount). If Samantha had delayed calling, I'm not sure I would have had that strength. I did crash somewhat later in the hospital, but that's a far better location than on a sailbot some miles off shore -- or even on the Coast Guard boat. She got me rescued in a timely way.

We knew the chart plotter wasn't going to work as we left the dock, but they can and do sometimes malfunction some distance into a trip, suddenly and unexpectedly. If I had been on a boat where no one had good coastal navigation skills, I could have ended up much more sick. No solution is perfect. Often it will be the skipper who has these skills, but what if it's the skipper who is sick? We could have just as easily gone on my boat, and I would have had no guarantee that my crew had these skills.

If that's your situation, get a backup chart plotter. I really dislike the handheld chart plotters, but they will give you latitude and longitude, which is all that's needed to get emergency help to your boat. I really do not recommend counting on your phone. You may be too far off the coast to get a signal, but in addition, the lack of sub-menus makes it much more difficult to find something as basic as latitude and longitude.

In fact, the difficulty of finding latitude and longitude in the Navionics program points to something else about the philosophical approach to the design of electronics navigation. Navionics, for instance,  focuses far more on establishing a route and using it as a track (something a modern chart plotter does fairly easily) than in just telling you where you are. I'm going to look for an app that just gives lat and long, because that's really all we needed. With rapid access to latitude and longitude, we could have confidently snaked ourselves through Mullet Key, Egmont Key, etc. At the push of a button we could have told the Coast Guard where we were.

Finally, Navionics depletes the phone battery quite rapidly. We did not have a DC charger with us (it's an easy thing to forget), and when it was dead, it was done. Using Navionics in the open Gulf we could turn it off, but near the shore you would want to leave it on.

I have seen people use Navionics on their phone quite effectively, but it has a steep learning curve, it doesn't do it nearly as well as a chart plotter, it is hard to see to program it in sunlight, and it uses a lot of battery up pretty quickly. Except in an emergency it gets a thumbs down from me.

I'll look and report on what I find regarding lat/long apps, but since I use an Android and most people seem to have Apples for smart phones, people should look on their own as well. T-Mobile, for instance (my provider), recommends that I use only T-Mobile tested apps, and my experience has suggested that this is true. While an I-Phone supposedly gives lat and long, it is also buried in the phone. The Coast Guard tried to lead Samantha through her phone to find it on her phone, apparently not trusting her navigation skills, but in Samantha's view it's the phone that failed. She never did find it and -- smartly -- asserted her status as skipper and insisted that they use the position she had plotted the old-fashioned way.

The weekend's experiences enhanced my opinion that both chart plotters and skilled use of paper charts are crucial, and not just for "serious" sailors. Going out on the water is a little dangerous, and it isn't right to abuse the system by forcing the Coast Guard to do a costly and time-consuming grid search because you didn't know how to figure out where you were.

The Side Netting Caught Me!

I have said in the past that one of the most dangerous things we do is get on and off a boat.

Last Friday, I got off the boat. As in, I moved off the boat. The moving truck picked up my belongings in one town. We were going to stop by the boat and load more things in the truck, but we were in the middle of what turned out to be record-breaking rain in some places, and we decided to just go to the apartment.

Later, of course, I had to go back to the boat. There were a couple of things that I had to get that day, in spite of the rain: my cat, and her kitty litter box.

I got the cat off first, no problem. But I was tired, and I slipped while getting the clean kitty litter out of the cabin. I spilled kitty litter into my shoe, down the companion way steps and into the cabin. Oh snap!

What I didn't realize was that I also stepped in some of the litter. Murphy noticed, however.

As soon as I put that litter-encrusted shoe on the side deck outside the cockpit, it turned to extremely slippery clay mud. Down I went, most of my weight on the top of my left knee. I felt my body be caught by the netting on the side of the boat. If the netting hadn't caught me, I would have gone into the marina, already injured (my knee did not like that landing), in the rain and with no one around anywhere.

Of course, netting won't help you unless you are on your hands and knees ... but Murphy had already seen to that. Instead of having a much worse accident, I got up, got safely home and washed off my shoes.

Needless to say this incident has made me a believer in side netting. I was going to add something like "particularly for older sailors," but ... NO. This could have happened to anyone (well, anyone with a cat on board!) It has absolutely convinced me that netting plus staying low if moving around the boat in rough waters is a first class idea.

You COULD Go Over the Side -- Really! -- Lifelines

No smart cracks this time -- this is serious stuff

I have heard about lifelines from a couple of people ever since I got my first little sailboat. People are passionate in their beliefs about them.

For instance, there's a big debate about whether they should be clad in vinyl or not. Many owners feel the vinyl looks nicer, even though vinyl-clad cable is more expensive than bare cable. Others insist that it's extremely important to have bare cable, because vinyl can hide the first signs of rust, a sign that your lifelines could fail.

Oh my gracious -- then you could fall overboard, right?

Well, yeah, you CAN fall overboard, but it can happen if you have the newest, brighest, tightest lifelines possible.

How is that possible?

Just go stand on the side of your boat, and note where the lifeline touches your body. Unless you're a child, it's going to be WELL below your waist. This means that your center of gravity is WELL above that top lifeline (assuming you have two -- smaller boats will only have one). 

The lifelines can't save you, I don't care what the "experts" say. I know a true expert who calls loose or weakened lifelines "deathlines." He's been sailing for many, many years and figured out long ago that the lifelines won't save him, but it's hard to ignore that word -- LIFEline.

Well, you have to. Words don't trump the laws of physics.

So what are they good for? They're an OUTSTANDING visual guide. They make it very, very clear where the edge of the cliff is. But once you have realized that those lifelines won't save you (and could actually encourage you to topple over), you'll realize why you want to move toward the bow from the HIGH side of the boat. On the high side of the boat, if you do fall, you'll fall toward the center of the boat -- not into the water.

What else can you do? My boat is 100% netted. I even made a frame with netting on it that lashes to my gates when they're closed. I have a coordination problem (talked about in a much earlier post), so I'm more likely than you to go over the side. Not everyone wants netting but I think it's wise for me.

The other thing you *must* do is make sure you have good handholds along the edge of your cabin top. You often see these made of teak. My boat also has a stainless steel grab bar that runs across the beam. We hear the saying, "One hand for yourself and one for your boat," and that's exactly what it means. As you move forward, you should always be holding on with one hand, and you shouldn't be holding the lifeline. You should be holding something closer to the center of the boat.

If the boat is sailing and you need to do something at the mast, move to the mast from the high side of the boat, where gravity will tend to push you toward the boat, not away from it.

Wear nonskid shoes. I don't care how many macho men tell you bare feet are best: if you break a toe, you're going to be significantly hobbled. Test their grip on your deck periodically, as the grip-holding tendencies of your shoes can wear out.

Don't count on the "life" lines to save you. Do keep them in good shape, but they are last-ditch, and in my opinion, best used by attaching netting to them.



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Sailing in Gusty Winds -- a great link!

People who have sailed for many years mostly know this information, but this blog is for people with less experience, and one of the more challenging situations for newer sailors is when the weather turns gusty. You could be unexpectedly caught in gusty weather for a number of reasons. You might have expected to get back in long before the bad weather hit, but something goes wrong and you don't make it.

You need to know how to handle gusty weather. Not only will you and your companions be uncomfortable otherwise -- someone could be hurt. They could be moving toward the head when a gust hits and fall in the cabin (fall in the cabin and you're very likely to have a bad fall), or sprain something when thrown off balance, or be hurt while moving forward to deal with something.

The webpage listed below covers what to do extremely well. I'll just make a few comments in case the information doesn't quite make sense. Here's the website:

http://learntosail.hubpages.com/hub/Three-Sailing-Tips-for-Less-Heel-in-Gusty-Breezes

And here's the core, with my comments in blue:

"1. Luff up on a Gust
Watch the water to windward. Look for dark, ruffled spots that signal the arrival of a gust. Point up toward the wind just before the gust arrives. This will luff the forward part of your sails and depower them--but keep the boat driving and on her feet!"

 Start learning to read the surface of the water now. The surface does change as the wind changes. On a light wind day, you can see puffs of stronger wind coming to take advantage of them. On rough days, you can see them coming and strategize.

So what does "luff up" mean? It means to make the sales "luff," or shake. It typically (but not always) starts at the luff, or leading edge, of the sail. You make the sail luff by steering more directly into the wind. A sailboat pointing into the wind can't sail because it can't catch any wind, and it can't use the sails as an air foil. The boat is depowered, which is what you need in too much wind. You need to depower the sails. This is one way to do it, and if the gusts are significant, you need to be in position before the gust hits.

You can also steer into the wind as you feel the wind rising. Gusts often occur on a curve -- the first increase will not be the peak, and you still have time to ease its impact on your boat, but also learn to read the waves.

What does "still driving the boat" mean? The writer is suggesting that you don't point the boat completely into the wind -- just enough to weaken the effects of wind on your sail. You're still moving, and the boat is "on her feet" -- not heeling excessively.

So what this is really about is steering. Now, steering is easier when the boat is in balance, which is covered a little further below.

"2. Ease your Sheets / Back your Blocks
Move the mainsheet car down the traveler track to leeward. Ease the mainsheet a few inches. Then, set your headsail sheet blocks back a few holes along the Genoa tracks. These actions cause the top of your sail to open--or twist--to spill high octane wind up high. This keeps heel down for a more balanced boat."

What's the "mainsheet car?" I could show you a picture of mine, but yours might look different. The "traveler track" moves across the beam of the boat. Sometimes it's across the cabin top, as mine is. Sometimes it's in the floor of the cockpit, right in front of the companionway. Sometimes it's at the back of the boat. Some smaller boats don't have travelers -- my little 25' Irwin didn't have one.

If you have a traveler, you release both traveler lines, and then pull on the leeward line. If the wind is coming over your port side, you pull on the starboard traveler line, and move the sail controls to starboard. This causes "twist" at the top of the sail. You can spot this because the curve of the leech -- the back edge of the sail -- will now have a more exaggerated curve in it, especially toward the top. This makes the sail more inefficient. It's an easy and quick way to depower your mainsail. If the gust was significant enough to make your boat heel too much, she should immediately settle down and heel less, what the author means by "keeping heel down."

But what does a "more balanced boat" mean? Without getting technical, the more balanced the boat is, the less physical exertion it takes to steer the boat. But it *also* means that the boat is more in control. Using the traveler to move the sail to leeward is a quick and effective method to "spill the mainsail" so it can't hold as much wind. You have effectively, temporarily turned your mainsail into a smaller sail.

OK, so what does "back your blocks" mean? The sheets for your headsail come back to the cockpit after being led through a moveable block that sits on a long track. The position of that block can dramatically affect the shape of your headsail. When the winds pick up, adjusting your mainsail as described above may not be enough to get your boat back in balance and sailing easily (which you judge easily by the amount of effort needed to steer her). If you move those blocks back toward the stern, you ... twist the headsail as well, causing wind to spill out of the top, and in effect, making your headsail smaller. 

Now, this isn't as easily (or as safely) done as adjusting the traveler. To move the blocks you have to first notice where the load is. Which is the working sheet? Well, in the scenario above, the wind was coming across the port side of the boat (a "port tack"). This makes the STARBOARD sheet carry the load. The port sheet is slack. So that's the one to adjust first, even though it won't change the sail. Slide it back as much as you think you need. Now, if you've gone out and practiced, you'll be able to make an educated guess. If you haven't practiced that yet, then your rule of thumb might be -- the stronger the gusts are, the more you should move it back.

Now you have to move the loaded block, and that can be more dangerous. You have two choices.

First choice is to switch to a starboard tack. The problem with that choice is that tacking isn't a lot of fun in rough water and winds that are overpowering your boat. It's not impossible, but make sure there's no one in the cabin and that everyone is secure (they do have PFD's on, right?) After the tack, your starboard sheet will be the "lazy" sheet and you can move the block toward the stern easily.

If tacking seems like a bad idea (whoever works the sheet is going to have to pull hard and fast on the new working line, and the helmsman should watch his or her progress, and not complete the turn until the new working sheet is under control and tight enough), here is how to move the block while the sheet is under load:

Always remember: ONE HAND FOR YOU AND ONE FOR THE BOAT. Don't use both hands doing this in rough water. 

Step firmly on the working jib sheet FORWARD of the block. Keep the tension on that sheet with your foot, hold on to something firm (not just a life line, but a stanchion or cabintop handhold, or bimini frame if it's very secure), and slide the block back. If you have to do this more than once to make sure you are holding on to the boat, so be it. You can do this twice. 

If you have two people on the boat, that second person should be on the helm. You'll be standing on the high side of the boat, and that will make it easier for you to do this.
 
"3. Reef your Sails
Combine the first two actions with sail reefing. One of the great misconceptions in sailing is that reefing is a heavy weather tactic. Nope--it's a balancing tactic. Reef earlier than you think necessary. Reduce or change out the headsail. Tuck a reef or two in to the mainsail. Reefing keeps the boat on her feet and the helm light as a feather."

 If you're going to change your headsail, please be aware of the weather before you are in it, and change the sail before it's actually needed. Changing a headsail can be extremely dangerous in high winds and/or rough water. When a boat is out of balance, the bow bounces around and moves unpredictably. If you slip up and the sail goes into the water, do you know what you have to do? You have to whip out your knife, cut the sail free and let it go, because a sail in the water at the bow can sink a boat. 

So do it while the winds are low.

Another option is to partially furl your roller furler, but understand that if you do that more than a couple of times it will permanently deform your headsail. This is not something covered by insurance, even though it's weather related. The result is that your headsail will always perform more inefficiently, and your boat will slow down some. Well, that's life -- safety first, but if you pay attention to the weather, you may avoid having to use your headsail in this way.

There's a hidden, important message in all of this: how the helm feels may be your best sign of whether it's time to twist the sails, and if that doesn't do the job, to start reefing.

What this all means is that you mustn't be shy about taking your boat out, little by little, in stronger winds than you're used to. If you're used to 10 mph winds, take her out in 15. Sail her on all points of sail. Make judgments about whether your boat needs to be reefed at this point. Some smaller boats probably should be reefed at 15 mph. 

Then take her out at 18 mph, and then 20, etc. Most people are not this methodical (and it's not typical for me, but I realized that sailing was a little more risky for me than some other people, and I just made myself do it. I am now convinced it's a good idea for all newer sailors.)

Three simple tips in that article -- simple for experienced sailors, that is. As you take your boat out for recreational cruises, pick one new skill to practice each time. Then when the ship hits the fan, you'll already know how to execute the excellent tips in that article. 



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Modification to How I Use My Gale Sail

Or, WHY I Keep Saying Practice is So Important

As I reported before, in my first entry about my Gale Sail, the instructions say to wrap the sheets only once around the sail before raising it.

Well, here's the rub: with my continuous-line roller furler, wrapping the sheets once isn't enough to keep it tightly furled, and if it isn't tightly furled the Gail Sale won't slide up the sail easily. Sometimes it won't slide up it at all.

The sheets also need to hang straight down, and not be secured by being led back to their cockpit-area cleats.

The solution came with the sail. The sail came with a sail tie, to tie up the folded sail and make it easier to slide it into its sail bag. You don't need it for that while the sail is deployed. It has a great advantage over line in that it's flat. I loop it through one of the sheets, counter-wrap the sail a couple of times, pulling tightly so it does not add bulk, tuck it through the sail tie and let it hang down straight.

That holds the sail tight long enough to get the sail up, which is all I need.

Several people have (quite correctly) pointed out to me that installing a second forestay close to the main one could be a great help in a storm. A small hank-on sail can be remarkably easy to deploy -- easier than a Gale Sail, certainly -- and is actually in a better position for storm sails, slightly closer to the mast.

I suddenly had an image in my mind of a boat with a Gale Sail on the roller furler AND a slightly larger storm sail on an inner stay, which with other options, such as a third reefing point, might reallly increase a skipper's options in foul weather.

I don't know if anyone has tried it, and since I'm a coastal cruiser, I would have very limited *real* need of an inner forestay. But if anyone knows of someone who has done this and actually used such a sail plan in foul weather, it would be interesting to hear about it.

We have exactly the weather I got that Gale Sail for in west central Florida right now. I would have taken the boat out in the rising conditions leading up to this if I could have, but I know I will have other opportunities before the winter is over. I'll report back how the sail performs.



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Your Autopilot Could Throw you in the Drink -- Really!

I'm a big fan of autopilots. Some people call them their "invisible crew member" or some other crew nickname that shows just how valuable they can be. If you're single-handing, for instance, the autopilot can keep your bow pointed into the wind while you raise the sails. No one ever told me what I'm going to tell you now, though. I heard "You should have an autopilot" over and over, but not one person said, "However, it can throw you in the water" -- until I said it. Then others agreed with me. I think it's just a good rule of thumb that anything you put on your boat will bring risks as well as benefits.

There's a saying about sailing that the number of errors equals the number of crew members -- squared. This includes your autopilot, because they can malfunction, and they can do so unpredictably and at just the wrong time -- just like humans.

An untended autopilot caused another boat to hit mine once. My helmsman had turned the helm over and was on my cabintop photographing the boat that ended up hitting me at the time, so we know exactly what happened. The "skipper" of the other boat 1) had his boat on autopilot, and 2) wasn't at the helm. The photos very clearly show him sitting on a side bench next to his cabin top, nowhere near the helm.

Sorry, but autopilots aren't really crew members, and a human has to be at the helm at all times. If common sense didn't tell you that, maritime law does.

Why is this important? His boat was sailing very fast, at least seven knots. He was only about ten feet away from us, silly really since we weren't racing and there was plenty of room.

So when his autopilot suddenly hiccuped and turned his boat 90º to port, at his speed even if he had known what was going on, he wouldn't have had time to steer away. His boat went right across the stern of my boat, leaving his bottom paint behind. His anchor hit my split back stay. It probably would have pulled the whole rig down except that the stay had a plastic PVC cover on it. The anchor, thankfully, rolled off the stay, damaging only the cover.

Autopilots can do that. They can be steering the boat dependably for quite some time. Then a wave hits the rudder wrong, or the power hiccups, or -- you won't always know why, but the boat suddenly makes a hard, lurching, and completely unpredictable turn.

If this happens to your boat and you're on deck somewhere instead of in the cockpit, and you're moving at 6 - 7 knots, that sudden turn can throw you into the water.

So what do you do? Because we all know we're not going to give up our autopilots.

First of all, any time you're relying on autopilot while you move around the boat, slow the boat down to the minimum speed you need to maintain steerage. That's whether you're going on deck or below decks, because you don't want to be thrown around in the cabin either. I suggest that you slow down  even if you have someone at the helm, because humans can control for things like errant waves in ways that electronic gadgets cannot. It's all about keeping the person who is out of the cockpit safe.

Second of all, always remember the old rule, "One hand for the boat, and one for yourself." Don't be up on deck doing something with both hands, and nothing to hold on to. If you have to use both hands, then you should be tethered. For instance, if you're reefing the boat, clip the tether to your PFD, wrap it twice around the mast if it's long, and then clip it to your PFD again. I know someone who did that as a storm approached. The wind hit before he was done reefing, and his boat heeled over nearly 90º. He was knocked off the cabintop but stayed on the boat, which saved his life.

Autopilots are terrific. They let you go down to the head, or grab a sandwich, or get that CD you want. Used intelligently in open waters (not near other boats, for instance -- please, I don't want to be hit again, and you really don't want to hit another boat), they are a tremendous asset. Just remember that they introduce a new element of risk along with all that tremendous convenience.

Beyond this, ALWAYS ask yourself when you get a new piece of equipment: "OK, I know the good it can do -- what can it do that's bad?" A preventer can keep you from a dangerous jybe when you're sailing downwind. I don't know how many times I've heard that. However, only one person ever pointed out that if you attach it to the boom in the wrong place, it can bend (destroy) your boom.

We're all newer sailors here, but I know for a fact that people who have been sailing for more than 60 years are still learning things. Complicating this process is the fact that we don't know what we don't know. So we don't know that the autopilot can send us for a swim, or that the preventer can bend the boom. Take all the things you have on the boat and make sure you know the downsides as well as the upsides. The internet can be a great help, but use it with caution, as the internet is packed with misinformation, some of it dangerous. As you keep poking around, you'll start to get a sense for what is and isn't likely to be true.

This one is true: your autopilot can pitch you in the drink. Turn it off if you have crew and put someone on the helm before you leave the cockpit. If you're by yourself, slow it down to steerage speed.

And have fun out there!

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Too Much Sail Up!

I heard about a sailor the other day who, as they say, ended "up to his neck in alligators." I'll call him "Dick."

Dick had taken a several-day sailing trip with a couple of friends who had sailed some with him before but who didn't have a lot of experience yet.

Dick was the person at the helm. they were sailing with an asymmetrical spinnaker out. An asymmetrical spinnaker flies to either the port or starboard side of the boat, not out in front while running downwind, as a symmetrical spinnaker is used.

Asymmetrical spinnaker deployed on port side
Source for photo: http://www.yagersails.com/spinnaker.html

As you can see, that's a lot of sail. Now, there are some basic rules about sails.

• The heavier the weather for which the sail is designed, the heavier and stiffer the fabric will be. My ATN Gale Sail is only tricky to attach to the roller furler because the fabric is so stiff. But because it is stiff, I can make that sail completely flat, something you want in higher winds. 
• The higher the wind, the smaller you want your sails to be. This is why mainsails can be reefed. 
• The higher the wind, the stronger you want that sail fabric to be, so it can take the extra wind pressure without ripping.
• The higher the wind, the flatter you want the sail to be. A big belly in a sail catches a lot more wind than a hard, flat sail. Look at the belly in that picture above -- wowsa!

A spinnaker sail fails on all four points. Spinnaker cloth is just about the lightest-weight sail cloth made. When the winds pick up significantly, at some point it's time to take the spinnaker down, or "douse" it.

Well, Dick didn't pay full attention to what we call "rising conditions." Both the winds and the waves were picking up. All of a sudden his boat took off, racing on the overpowered spinnaker. The boat was out of control.

So now he had some decisions to make -- who does what? (Remember my article "Ten Minutes to Prepare?") Part of deciding who will do what is making sure that the person will know how to execute his or her designated task. Unfortunately, Dick is an optimist and did not anticipate this change in conditions. He also didn't assign tasks ahead of time, and he didn't train those people for their assignments.

But I know what the BIG thing is that went wrong for Dick -- he's a helm hog. He doesn't want to share the helm. Because of that, he did not have a skilled backup helmsman.

When he found himself overpowered, he had to go up to the bow in rough seas and douse that great big sail, keeping it under control and out of the water (having that sail go into the water would have been extremely dangerous. It could have pulled the boat over and then under like a submarine.) He had two relatively inexperienced people back in the cockpit, one of them on the helm. The person on the helm couldn't hold a steady course with the increased wind and waves, and who could blame him? You need to have someone else who can take the helm, but you have to teach that person and give him or her time to practice. Otherwise your backup helmsman is going to have a hard time. You have to share the helm if you're going to have an adequate backup helmsman in a pinch.

Dick called out instructions, but the new helmsman either didn't understand the instructions or couldn't execute them. It could have been a combination of both. In any case, they ended up with a line in the water AND wrapped around the rudder. When the people in the cockpit realized they couldn't steer, they started the engine. That is only a good choice if the helmsman and crew are certain that there are ... no lines in the water. The line then very efficiently wrapped itself around the propeller as well.

Again, this is a problem resulting from poor crew training and lack of time doing important things on the boat, what a friend of mine calls "time over water" (and not just as a passenger). There are extremely directive skippers out there, who give so many detailed instructions that the crewmember is just an extension of the skipper, doing no thinking for himself (picking a sex). The more prompts you give as a skipper, the less your crew member will actually learn.

Your crew has to practice these things under calm conditions, and "checking for lines in the water" needs to be drilled into everyone's head before they go *anywhere* near that engine -- in fact, all the time. That line wrapped itself around the rudder without any help from the engine. If you're going to take beginners out on your boat, you have a responsibility to teach them those basic things. If something happens, starting the engine is a very reasonable thing to do. They need to know how to do it safely.

He had to cut the spinnaker lines and let it drift away, but all's well that ends well. The skipper also had to go over the side to untangle that line from the rudder and propeller. That's not so good; he had to leave his boat for the water with crew on board who were already struggling. Again, all's well that ends well.

BUT:

You can avoid a lot of this by discouraging a casual attitude toward sailing on your boat. Make sure that your crew knows that it can be a little dangerous. Make sure they truly know how to perform the tasks you're going to assign them. Teach them patiently and give them a chance to practice.

I was on the sail school's safety boat one day when the students were learning to dock (those of us on the safety boat call that "target practice.") Each student boat made pass after pass, and we could hear the instructors giving tips and encouragement to their students. If the students were doing the docking, they should have been giving the directions to the teacher and other student, but each time, it was the teacher speaking.

Then one of the boats approached. I looked at the instructor, and she had her hands over her mouth! One student was in charge of the docking with the other student crewing. The student did a great job. Then they made another pass, and the other student executed the "mock dock." He did a great job too, and the teacher still had her hands over her mouth.

Hats off to her. She knows that unless those students can dock the boat without any prompting from her, they can't dock the boat. That's what you should do, too. If you want your crew to be able to tack the boat without your help, put one of them on the helm and one of them on the sheets -- and then zip your lips.

And for heaven's sake, don't be a helm hog. One day it could be your life on the line.

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My Current Storm Strategy

"Climbing (sailing) is like fun, only different."
     Tom Pattey, Scottish ice climber

When I first started sailing, I had a storm strategy. That’s good; everyone who sails should have a storm strategy.

My first plan (just avoid storms) was completely unrealistic (in two ways). That’s bad. See my three-part entry, “Out of the Bathtub!” That wasn’t even a storm – just more wind and waves than typical. We were in 5’ waves, and I was completely unprepared. I noticed on the news tonight that 8’ waves are predicted on the Gulf tonight. There’s nothing in the visible observation of local weather to suggest this. Locally, it’s cloudy with occasional light drizzle. However, to the north of us a cold front is moving south. I’m guessing now, but wondering if maybe north of here, weather is just pushing waves southward. The weather report didn’t give wave direction, and I haven’t checked yet.

It doesn’t really matter, because both weather and weather-related events, such as waves, can’t always be predicted (see my entry “Storm!”, where a significant storm seemingly came out of nowhere.)

In my first wind-and-wave event, I was woefully unprepared, particularly because of my reefing system that was so inadequate and dangerous that it couldn’t be safely used. That led to a cascade of ever-worsening events.

My second storm strategy was “just drop all the sails and motor.” That is also a significantly flawed strategy in my opinion.

First, my first sailboat had an outboard engine. In the waves we had it would have been impossible to run the engine because the engine would have kept coming out of the water, denying it cooling. On my next boat, the engine proved to be completely undependable. Now, with a dependable engine, I need to protect it. I don’t want to operate it if the boat heels more than 10º, because after 10º the oil pump cannot adequately pump oil through the engine.

The reality is that a sail plan in a really significant storm can’t and won’t be that simple, and it partly depends on your individual boat as well as your experience, and your experience with that boat.

For instance, my boat is particularly sensitive to being in balance -- that is, having the size of the headsail and the size of the mainsail matched so they work well together without allowing the boat to become overpowered (too much sail up for the conditions). I discussed this today with someone who has the same boat I do but vastly more experience, and he agrees.

For my boat, the hull shape is important. Its fat stern tapering to skinny bow makes the boat “bow tender.” In other words, the bow is particularly sensitive to wind and waves compared to some other boats.

Now, my friend already knows what I’m going to mention next. I’m still sorting it out because I haven’t been in a storm in this boat in some time and have learned a lot about how she handles since then. The first step for me would be to see where the coast is. If it’s close (I’m largely a coastal cruiser), getting away from or staying away from the coast has to be a top priority. You have to look at the chart closely and account for all possible obstacles, not just the shore itself.

The next concern will be how the hull goes through the biggest and most common waves. Unfortunately, waves don’t march like well-disciplined little sailors. While most may come from one direction, there will be contrary ones, and size will also vary. They are the concern of the helmsman. Right now, the current trend should be studied. In shallower water, the waves will be more confused and harder or impossible to predict. But you’re going to get out of shallow water as fast as you can.  :)

Once a tentative point of sail has been chosen (based on conditions, not destination – destination sailing is over for now) – it’s time to set the sails to help the boat through those waves as smoothly as possible. Wind direction has to be considered. You should have a good idea of where to put your sails, but try tweaking them for best result. “Harden them up” – that is, do things to take as much belly out as possible, such as tightening your outhaul (pulls the sail back toward the end of the boom) and the leech line (tightens the leech of the sail and helps take curve out of it). Why do that? Because a curved sail catches more wind than a flat one.

If you have a traveler, check its position. You probably won’t want to be on a close reach (often called “beating” with good reason), but you probably don’t want to be broadside to the winds either. Someplace in between will probably be best for the winds, but it may have to be a compromise between the wind and the hull, as the waves may not be from the same direction as the wind. You may want your traveler halfway between center and the end of the lee side. That gives you the option of using the traveler to quickly spill wind out of the mainsail in a gust. Simply release the upwind traveler line and let the traveler move all the way to the end. The sail will instantly become less efficient, and that’s exactly what you want.

Tweak your headsail as well. If this sail has height to it (my ATN Gale Sail is fairly short), you might want to use the position of the sheet leads to “twist” the top of the headsail. While sometimes undesirable, it is one strategy for depowering the headsail, because wind will spill ineffectively out of that twisted top.

The headsail can also be hardened up, by pulling the working sheet as tightly as possible. Many headsails have leech lines. Try to get forward to tighten that before any significant wind hits your boat.

All of this is a matter of judgment and balance. You will have your hardest time with it in your first storm, because you will have to test everything as you go, and make a number of adjustments. In subsequent storms you’ll know much more about what works on your boat. 

Is this my final storm strategy? Of course not.

Should you copy it? Don't be silly -- I haven't tried it yet. I'm absolutely certain it won't all work equally well. I have done all these things, but not all at the same time in a storm.

I'll post when I've done that. It's Florida. Inevitably, it will be tested. 

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Chart Plotter or No Chart Plotter? Update ...

     Or, Ooops -- I Just Ran Aground in the Center of the Channel!

Last Thursday I was bringing my boat through the Skyway Channel. At the south end, the piling for Channel Marker #2 had been removed, and there was a floating red nun with a 2 on it in its place -- or more accurately, halfway into the channel. I showed a picture of a similar change in that channel some time ago at Marker #10.

However, the combination of low tide and a lot of north wind had made things even worse, and I ran aground, fortunately in soft sand as it was still drifting, right by that floating nun.

The wind was to my back and there was plenty of wave action, and combining that with careful use of the engine, I was able to get off. It was dicey, though, because apparently even my rudder caught a couple of times, judging by how the wheel acted.

Now, on the chart -- and on my chart plotter -- there appears to be much deeper water -- 10 - 12 feet at low tide -- just west of that part of the channel. It would appear to be a better way in and out.

But here's the problem. Obviously paper charts aren't updated unless new surveys are done *and* you buy the updated chart ... and your chart plotter is just as dated. It uses the same data.

So what do you use?

Your eyes. Shallow water looks different than deep water. I don't think there's anything I could have done that day, but if the tide had been a little higher I could have probably visually picked my way through that spot. In such a situation, if you have another person with you, put him or her on the bow, if possible with a depth line. I'll show mine soon. By the time your depth sounder reads water too shallow, your keel has either found it or will in the next second or so.

Inch your way through.

This was a potentially bad situation -- I lost my rudder once before to shallow, rough water, and I was in a real bottleneck in the channel. If a power boat had come through there with a big wake, first of all the skipper might have assumed I was moving, and second of all a big wake could have banged my rudder around. I really don't want to go there again! But because the day was so blustery, few boats were out. In the five minutes it took me to pick my way through that 100 feet or so, I didn't encounter any other boats.

Always be watching for shallow water, no mater what the chart says, and no matter what the electronics say. By the way, my depth sounder said I was in 20.6' of water while the depth line said 4'. I draw 4 1/2', and I know which measure I believe. Either this is another sign of my chartplotter malfunctioning or somehow the container that holds my transducer needs more fluid. That's easy to check, and I'll be doing that, but meanwhile, this is more proof that while useful, electronics are not the whole answer for a sensible sailor.

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FOR THE SUNDANCER WHO "WAKED" ME

     Or, Money can’t buy happiness

To the guy with the beautiful black and white Sundancer:

Hi, Pal. I’m sorry it bothered you when I took your picture. It was the day after the Christmas Boat Parade, and I was trying to return to Bradenton, but there was just too much fog on Tampa Bay. I wasn’t about to try to cross a shipping channel in white-out fog, and I wasn’t going to attempt the Manatee River that way either.

So I turned around to go back to Boca Ciega Yacht Club.

I saw you there as I headed out, aground between Structure C and Structure E bridges. I knew you must be frustrated, but since there was a rising tide, I figured, “He’ll have a beer, break out the snacks, and be free soon enough.” It could have been so much worse.

But on my return trip, you were still there, but now with not one but TWO Boat US boats trying to pull you off. On a rising tide. All it would have taken was a little patience. “Where did you have to go so urgently?” I wondered. What was the rush?

I’m sorry, but that made a good photo. I didn’t have my camera handy, so I did take a picture with my phone.

You had no way of knowing the phone was going to commit telephone hara-kiri before I could get the picture off of it. That photo is gone forever.

But you didn’t know that. I went on my way at about 6 knots, through Structure C and then northeast up the end of Boca Ciega Bay back toward the club. Imagine how surprised I was to see you behind me when I was about two thirds of the way there!

Example of the boat that went after me not once but twice.

I was even more surprised when you revved up both engines and circled my boat, throwing it about 50º to port, and then 50º to starboard. Fortunately I had my cat in her carrier in the cockpit. I was able to grab it and protect her – but what if there had been children in the cabin? They would not have been able to reach the overhead handles. They could have actually been quite badly hurt.

 
My cat, "Spot," chillin' while we sail

Unfortunately, this isn’t the end of the story. About two weeks later, I had exited Twin Dolphin Marina and was moving west in that nice, open area, when – lo and behold – a Sundancer came up behind me! It held back, and I thought “How polite. He knows his boat wake and isn’t going to toss me around by accident.”

Not by accident, but on purpose – again. This time you didn’t bother to circle, but you did blast your engines with everything they had and threw my boat around again. Sorry to tell you, but I have lee cloths over my shelves. You didn’t toss any of my belongings either time. I’m also happy to report that you didn’t kill my cat, who is always in her carrier in the cockpit now where I can grab it and keep her safe from people like you, and you didn’t injure anyone who might have had the misfortune of being in the cabin when you pulled that stunt. Thank goodness. That could have put you in prison.

Could it have been two different boats? I suppose, but it doesn’t seem very likely, does it?

As I say, I apologize for taking your picture, but it doesn’t justify your behavior. Next time I’m getting your numbers and calling the Coast Guard.

        

Sailors, this kind of behavior on the part of power boats is NOT typical. It is, however, why you should secure your belongs below, because whether intentional or unintentional, wakes happen. 

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OUT OF THE BATHTUB! (Part 3)

     Or, The buck stops here!

______

May 18, 2013

     “The chance of mistakes are about equal to the number of crew squared."

Ted Turner

Tom and I were in a bit of a pickle, in waters way too rough for either our experience or the boat’s size and equipment, and with multiple things going wrong. I had friends who had attempted something extremely dangerous trying to help us. It was time to take definitive action, and I called for Boat US on channel 16 to come and get us (they had us switch to channel 68), which at least ended attempts by crew from other boats to somehow climb onto ours. While a pair of experienced hands might have been helpful, it wouldn’t have changed the fact that we were overpowered for those winds and waves. Our most fundamental problem would still be there. I was also very concerned that if we lost steering, the waves would push us into the shallows, where the boat could get quite damaged.

Boat US recognized that we were potentially in serious trouble, and said they would make us their top priority, and get there as soon as possible. I told them what our new sail plan was. They called us every five minutes for updates of our latitude and longitude, which a handheld GPS provided (two boats from BCYC stayed near us, and if our GPS had malfunctioned, they could have provided that information also –- sailing with another boat can be quite helpful in a variety of ways.) Boat US warned me that because of the conditions, I might have only one chance to catch the tow rope. I looked at the skinny, bouncing bow, not relishing the idea of going back up there for a one-handed catch.

However, Boat US wasn’t the first “Help Boat” to arrive. I looked up to see a boat pounding toward us. It was from EC-SAR –- Eckard College Search and Rescue. Eckard College, a small school in South Pasadena, FL, runs a co-curricular search and rescue program staffed by highly trained, dedicated and brave students. I looked at them in surprise and said, “Boat US is coming for us.”

“We know,” was the reply. “We’re here because we heard them tell you that you would have to go to the bow to catch the tow rope. We’re here to fish you out if you fall in.” Boy, was I glad to hear that!

Well, Boat US did find us; I did catch the tow rope, I didn’t fall into the water, and the team from EC-SAR waved goodbye and scooted away to help someone else in trouble in those messy seas.

When we were under tow and safe, Tom went below to check out what the other two “thumps” were. I think he already had an idea.

The first thump had been his backpack rolling off the V-berth on to the floor. The second thump was the porta-potty, which flipped itself over the bungee cord and spilled its contents –- on to Tom’s back pack!

LESSONS LEARNED:

FIRST: So far I’ve only talked about what I did right that day, but I made several mistakes, one of them a “no excuse” goof: I did not decide for myself whether, when and where I should be sailing my boat. I should have checked the weather reports myself. Twin Dolphin Marina had a computer for guests, and the information was available to me. Instead, I entrusted that decision to “more experienced” sailors in the group. The problem with that is that they made the decision to sail based on their experience and their boats –- not mine.

If I had seen the wind and wave prediction, I would have done two things. First, I would have put Tom on someone else’s boat to go home, as he had to get to work on Monday, and second, I would have stayed at Twin Dolphin until the wind died down and the waves decreased (waves will continue to be riled up for some time after weather has settled down). I didn’t even have to know all that. If I’d asked questions of the other sailors about the next day’s forecast, the answer would have been enough to raise alarm bells in me. The staff at Twin Dolphin could have advised me.

I would have had to bring the boat back by myself (although someone from the club might have been willing to make the half-hour drive to accompany me back), and I could have gone back up the “ditch” along the Skyway Bridge, a much more sheltered sail than along the west coast of Florida.

Another option, had we had a little more experience, would have been to reef at the dock before leaving. However, if we had done that, I might not have realized how inadequate my reefing plan was for a while.

SECOND: As we left to sail south on Saturday, I told Tom we could “co-skipper” the boat, since we had similar levels of experience. But when things get bad, one person has to be the skipper, and typically that would be the owner of the boat (I would have had no problem turning the helm over to an experienced sailor in this situation, but we didn’t have someone like that on board). Our agreement on Saturday made it harder for me to assert myself as skipper on Sunday when most of the trouble occurred. My personal opinion is that if it’s your boat, you have to do the scary stuff. Tom wanted to go up to the bow both times it was necessary, but I felt that I had gotten us into the predicament we were in, and that I was obligated to do the dangerous stuff if I was able to.

THIRD: I let someone with inadequate skills work on my boat. If I had asked around the club, I would have found out that the fellow who “installed” the gas tank and the porta-potty didn’t exactly have the best reputation for quality work.

FOURTH: I did not check the work done on my boat the day before. Even the best, most reliable people can make serious mistakes (see my story, “Your Boat Could Sink! Really!” for an example of that).

FIFTH: I did not double-check information I was given about my boat. If I had asked virtually anyone at the club about my so-called “reefing system,”  each sailor would have pointed out the obvious risk and encouraged me to install a better one, something I did more or less immediately after getting back from this trip.

I DID DO SOME THINGS RIGHT: I studied the chart before sailing. I moved the boat away from the lee shore (over the protests of my crew). I took steps to keep the boat from rounding up so easily. I had a knife tied to my pants, which meant I couldn’t drop it overboard while freeing the headsail. I went forward to the bow prepared to do everything necessary to deal with the sail (bungee cord). I refused to allow a dangerous attempt at boarding my boat. And, importantly, I had towing insurance. While EC-SAR will sometimes tow disabled boats in, they are a search and rescue organization, not a towing service. If someone else had called them with lives on the line, they would have released me, as protecting people is their priority (see tomorrow’s story, “Oh, Dorothy!” for an example of how they do that.)

The major lesson learned was that you are the skipper of your boat –- and that with that comes responsibilities. Study the weather reports yourself. Be prepared to make hard decisions, such as not to sail –- or to not follow the advice of well-meaning crew. Tom, not realizing the danger, was having fun as the boat repeatedly attempted to broach, which is why he did not want to spill the sails. In addition he had not studied a chart of the area, so even if he had realized what the boat was trying to do, he might not have recognized that the “lee shore” shallows at that spot (off Bunce’s Pass) extend far out into the water.

Even more experienced sailors may overlook something you believe to be a significant problem. Or, they may engage in wishful thinking (“Oh, that won’t be a problem!”) These things are not for the crew to decide, although you should listen to what others think when there’s time to do so. But ultimately, it’s your boat and your insurance on the line, and you are responsible for the lives of those on your boat.

By the way, it turned out that the nuts on the bolt holding the tiller to the rudder mechanism were loose. They were easily accessible and easily tightened, but it took two monkey wrenches, and I only had one on board. Sometimes having extra tools is not a bad thing.

In addition, I put netting on the front of the boat after our return. If we had managed to drop the sail from the cockpit, the sail could easily have been blown off that tiny bow into the water – where it would have filled with water and created a true crisis. Make sure you can control your sails when they come down.

EC-SAR is a phenomenal organization. If you live or sail along the central Florida coast or Boca Ciega Bay, you should have their phone number on your boat: (727) 864-8288.  Also see their website at http://www.eckerd.edu/waterfront/ecsar/.  

After EC-SAR has come out to help me, which they have in  a highly skilled way more than once, I always give them a generous donation (whatever cash I have with me). Both times, they helped protect me and my boat from serious harm in a remarkably well-coordinated and efficient way. 



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Do You Want Your Keel Under the Boat or IN the Boat?

     Or, the coast is not always your friend!

In rough water, or in rough weather, you need to move away from the shore. I’m not kidding. This is serious stuff.

I know. It’s counter-intuitive. Most newer sailors want to stay close to shore, and especially in a storm, which is scarier than sailing in calm weather. A lot of newer sailors worry about falling out of the cockpit when the boat heels, and shallow water feels safer. How many times did your mother tell you not to go into the deep end of the swimming pool when you were little?

But you’re not in a swimming pool. You’re on a sailboat. You’re not going to fall out of the cockpit (even in a bad storm there are very good ways to keep that from happening, honest!) And, in your swimming pool, if a storm develops, you just get out of the pool and go inside. It isn’t quite that simple on a sailboat in a storm.

Storms are not static, and they’re not completely predictable. They can pop up on what seemed like a perfect day to sail. They can move or remain stationary. They can expand, contract, and even rotate. They can join other storms. They can develop right over you. The point of this is that you can’t necessarily predict where the wind will come from (unless you are a very unusual beginning sailor with lots of weather forecasting experience), and the fact is that the wind direction can shift on you during that storm.

Why does that matter? It matters because you need to keep your boat in deep water during a storm. You don’t want to be caught near what is called a “lee shore.” That doesn’t mean the storm is on the other side of the island. It means the wind is blowing you toward the shore. The wind is to the windward side, and the shore is to the leeward side, of your boat. The wind is pushing your boat toward shore. Even if you don’t have a lee shore right now, the waves may be pushing you toward the shore, because it takes a while for the water to change direction after a wind change. In other words, the wind may be pushing you in one direction while the waves push you in another (and in shallow water, that situation is a real mess!) Either way, it’s not an ideal situation. And, you can’t assume that the wind direction you have now will remain where it is. A wind shift could suddenly put you next to a lee shore, and you might have a hard time getting out to deeper water. Better to move there sooner rather than later.ß

So then, think about scary things you’ve seen about boats: they can break, and then they sink – or have you not seen the movie “Titanic?” Water doesn’t break boats -- "Poseidon" is a fiction movie. Boats hitting hard things break boats.

Don’t break the boat. You avoid that by staying away from hard things that can break it, like icebergs … and the ocean’s bottom. In deep water, the ocean (or lake) bottom is farther away from your keel. That’s what you want.

Where I live, the danger near the shore is generally shallow water. (It’s even worse in some other places, where the shallow water includes hidden, big, sharp rocks.) When the water gets rough, a number of things happen in shallow water.

·      The waves tend to break. That makes rough water even rougher.

·      The waves tend to come closer together. That makes the water not only rougher, but harder to manage as well. The water can even get very confused, much like a giant, front-loading washing machine. Do you really want to try to pilot your boat through a giant, front-loading washing machine? No, I didn’t think so. The waves will be easier to handle, and you and your crew will be much more comfortable, away from shore.

·      The waves tend to push you toward ever more shallow water. If you have any other problems – and you may well have other problems by this point, because things often go wrong in clusters (see my personal experience story, “Out of the Bathtub!”) – it will be much harder now to move your boat back out to deeper water.

·      Now you’re really in trouble, because the waves have been bouncing your boat up and down, and other things have gone wrong, and now it’s all happening in shallow water. I know someone this happened to, and the breaking waves banged his boat against the bottom in the shallow water, and  drove the keel right through the bottom of his boat. His boat sank in four feet of water. No one was hurt, but the boat was totaled.

·      Many boats have unprotected rudders, and in these circumstances, your rudder may end up broken, and then you won’t be able to steer. Three guesses how I know …

So what do you do? Turn your boat away from the shore – and before all these things start to happen (using at least a 45º angle through the waves – experiment in calmer water to see how she goes through best, and you'll probably find that 45º isn't enough). If you’re scared, tell everyone to put on PFDs (if you’re scared, you should be more scared in shallow water). Employ all your other safety devices – tethers, drag line, etc. It’s very unlikely that you’ll need any of it, but you’ll feel better, and feel more in control. What you don't want is for the waves to hit the side of your boat. That will be the roughest, and the scariest, way to ride it out. If you have to make a big turn, do it between waves so you don't get caught with the waves "abeam," or hitting the side of the boat.

If there is someone on your boat who is highly experienced, don’t be ashamed to turn the helm over to him or her.

LESSON LEARNED: There’s a lot more you need to know about sailing your boat in rough water, even as a newer sailer, and you really do need to know it. Buy yourself a copy of Sailing For Dummies, and do it today. Then read it very carefully. It is an outstanding book for newer sailors, and as you’ll see in my story about the time this happened to me, it really helped me. I did turn the boat out to sea, over the protests of the equally inexperienced person with me, and it’s a good thing, because we did have a cluster of failures. But we didn’t get thrown into the water, no one got hurt, and we didn’t break the boat. That’s a good outcome.

Rough water doesn’t have to be a crisis. If you think there’s any chance of rough water, and any chance that you will get seasick, take something like Bonine in a timely way. Encourage your crew to do so as well. One or more people on the boat incapacitated by sea sickness is one of those things that can contribute to a “cluster of things that go wrong.” If you get caught in a difficult situation, you need everyone able to help out. It sounds trivial, but seasickness can completely incapacitate a person -- and even turn into a true medical emergency from dehydration.

Should you just try to get to safe harbor? Well, I’m assuming you paid enough attention to the weather that you know this is only a thunderstorm, and not a hurricane you thought you could just dodge. But thunderstorms can move at up to 60mph, and I’m pretty sure your sailboat can't go that fast. If you try to get into a safe harbor, there’s a very good chance that you will only succeed in putting yourself close to shore, or even worse, in a channel in very rough water. If your boat has an outboard motor, it’s an even worse choice, because an outboard won’t be any help in confused waters, and in fact you could ruin it as it keeps bobbing out of the water with no access to cooling. 

However, that's all a judgment call. If the storm is just forming and is currently far away, that's the time to head for safe harbor (which could just be a little cove sheltered from the likely direction of the wind). If you do that, put an anchor out -- two, if you have them (and you should have two). The storm might be parallel to you at the moment. I say don't do it, but friends did it in Biscayne Bay when I was on their boat. We headed in the moment the skipper saw signs of a storm forming -- he saw gathering haze and didn't gamble. We got in just before a really big storm hit. 

Riding out a storm may not be fun. You may get wet – but it’s just water. You may get seasick, but you won’t be sick forever. The ride may be rough, but the storm will end. You don’t want to be caught in a pounding surf with a keel under you and crashing waves abeam, with no way to turn the boat. Get your boat into deeper water in a timely way.

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ß This is where you have to have that “I’m the skipper” attitude, because you cannot allow debates over whether or not to move the boat away.  Moving the boat away from shore may upset or scare someone on your boat. But it is your boat, and your insurance, and you are responsible for the boat and passengers’ safety – not the scared person who doesn’t know about lee shores in a storm yet. STICK TO YOUR GUNS and don’t allow a debate. YOU are skipper; YOU make the crucial decisions for your boat unless you are CERTAIN the other person knows more than you. Even then, I would still move the boat away from shore. It won’t hurt anything to do that.